


Selfish Whims

by Anonymous



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22708546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Awake. Why was he awake?
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43
Collections: Anonymous





	Selfish Whims

_Awake_. Why was he awake?

Wrathion exhales irritably, gaze flicking around the room as he shifts under the covers of the massive, plush Pandaren bed that cupped his restless body. The room was dark, moderately bare, and, Wrathion now decided, unbearably stuffy. He ran an idle hand over his bare chest; though his upper body was utterly devoid of clothing, he could not shake the feeling of sweltering confinement.

He glanced down at the bed’s other unclad occupant, one who’d decided the stagnant air was not worth staying awake for. A mop of blonde hair rustled slightly beside Wrathion’s hip as he felt Anduin Wrynn shift aimlessly in his sleep, practically mocking the Black Prince’s restlessness.

The dragon’s gaze flicked to the latched window across the room. Perhaps letting some air in would clear his head, freshen up the room. He leans down, hands moving under the covers to carefully detach Anduin’s arms from the bedspread beside his legs. The drifting appendages seemed to have a habit of creeping dangerously close to his thighs and then latching on like vices. He slowly lifts himself from the curved bed, careful of any stray rustling of covers or creaky floorboards. When Anduin does not utter any mumbles of protest, Wrathion smiles to himself in satisfaction. He quickly crosses the room and throws open the window, sighing blissfully as fresh air washes over him.

Wrathion breathes deeply, soaking in the cold, misty breeze of the Veiled Stair as he thrusts his head through the window to gaze up at the stars glittering in the midnight sky. A cloudless, perfect night – one he should be sleeping through. Below, two Blacktalon faces immediately swivel up to stare at his. He takes in one more breath before nodding at the pair and retreating from the window. Best not to tarry too long before they thought something was amiss.

He slips back into the bed, soothing Anduin’s sleep-mutters at the disturbance with a comforting, slow stroke across the human’s forehead. He tucks the weighty covers back over his legs, letting Anduin instinctively curl against his warmth before he props himself up with his pillow and stares blankly up at the ceiling.

Why tonight? By all rights, he was exhausted – it’d been nonstop chats with various champions popping in and out, as well as shooing out a nuisance of a paladin that’d taken it upon herself to challenge Sunwalker Dezco every time she caught sight of the Tauren. A long day for all, Madame Goya’s staff included. He sighs in annoyance, muffling the noise as he lolls his head to the side. His gaze finds his sleeping bedmate, a hand lifting to hover above Anduin’s form as he tests the other’s wakefulness.

Satisfied at the lack of reaction, Wrathion’s hand lowers to gently trace a line around the curve of Anduin’s. He watches his hooked nail ghost across the prince’s bared skin, delighting in the tiny marks he leaves. It was nights like this that his desires manifested so painfully, weighed deep in his chest as he watched the human slumber beside him.

He _wanted_ the human, wanted Anduin at his side so terribly. Wanted a companion to banter the days away with, someone who interested him so deeply as this human child did. Bright and brimming with a hope that Wrathion himself craved, with such wisdom that did not befit a boy so young - even if it was clouded by naivety. A trace of a smile graces his face as he lifts his hand to lightly run his thumb across Anduin’s cheek. The blonde stirs slightly, an inaudible mumble spilling from sluggish lips before the human drifts back into sleep.

It only takes a glance upward to dispel the pleasant warmth that had been creeping into Wrathion’s chest. The stern eyes of a golden lion stare back at him from across the room, causing his lips to twitch into a scowl as he glares at the crest of Stormwind stitched upon Anduin’s carefully hung tabard. A bold and brazen reminder that the comforting warmth curled beside him was so cruelly temporary.

Anduin’s curse was one that he openly welcomed despite the pain all knew it brought him. The weight of a crown was heavy no matter the race. Anduin would be king, king of Stormwind and king of the entire might of the Alliance. He was unfit as he stood now, preaching words of unity and peace, words that did not reach the truly battle-hardened. To be truthful, if not for the blood-bond, Wrathion very much doubted such foolishly kind words would ever have penetrated the steely heart of Varian Wrynn.

Which brought forth the complicated matter of his prince’s heart. Inevitably, Anduin would be betrothed – perhaps he was already? – to a noblewoman, to secure an heir for Stormwind. Wrathion had no place at his side in this matter, not even under the guise of an advisor. Perhaps, in time, he would not even be wanted as a platonic companion. As young as he was, he knew of the tests of time. Time twisted mortals so easily, bent their personality and ideals until someone that had once been full of ambition and love was warped to the point that something unrecognizable stood in their place.

His gaze falls back to the mortal dreaming at his side – ah, mortal. A word thrown around so carelessly in the fearless waking hours yet when all was still and silent, filled him with dread that ate at his very core. Even if he did fall prey to his selfish whims – to keep Anduin, claim him, hide him away somewhere, far from his burden, his birthright – and even if Anduin abandoned everything for Wrathion’s sake, there was no changing all mortals’ one inescapable fate. Anduin would die, would wither before Wrathion’s eyes as time itself sapped the human’s energy through the years. Blessed, loved mortal that he was, he would still be taken from the world of the living and plucked from Wrathion’s grasp no matter how tightly the other held on. And it would be a very, very long time before Wrathion would join him.

_To join him_ … a nasty, prickling sensation crept along his spine. Wrathion was no mortal, but he was not immune to death’s grasp. A thousand enemies lurked in wait for him to slip, to cut his precious life short with magic or blade. The same went for Anduin as well. _It’s a game_ , Wrathion thought suddenly, a wave of dizziness suddenly flooding his senses. _But the stakes have always been lives._

The room sways dangerously for a moment, a pang of fear clawing at his chest as Wrathion slowly tucks his legs to rest his forehead atop his knees. He takes in a deep, shuddering breath, attempting to be as silent as he could as he fought the sudden surge of panic.

“Mrrn… Wrafyun?”

Not silent enough. He lifts his head from his knees, crimson eyes meeting a pair of glassy blues. His mouth opens and sleepy yawn steals the excuse forming on his lips. He promptly shuts his mouth and tries to suppress an overly fond smile as Anduin gazes up at him in a mixture of confusion and fatigue.

“Why’re you ‘wake? Somethin’ wron’?” Anduin mumbles, slowly propping himself up with his elbows as his head automatically swivels to inspect the room. His tired gaze lands on the open window and he frowns. “Someone come in?”

Wrathion forces a smile down at the human, a gentle hand reaching out to smooth mussed, golden bangs. “Not at all. I simply let a bit of night air in. You are perfectly safe, my prince.” Anduin mutters to himself as he lets his arms crumple, flopping back down onto the bed to bury his face into his pillow. One hand wriggles out from beneath his body, blindly searching around the bed until Wrathion feels a warm palm cup his cheek.

Anduin shifts slightly, rolling onto his side as the boy blinks blearily up at the other. “So why you’re not sleeping?” he hums, eyes already lidding. “Glowy eyes are keepin’ me awake.” A rather royal whine has slipped into the human’s tone, the fatigue wearing at his normal composure.

Wrathion quietly chuckles to himself as his hand lifts to cover Anduin’s atop his cheek. “I suppose dreams elude me tonight,” he murmurs, fingers slipping down to encircle Anduin’s wrist as he places a small peck upon the boy’s knuckles. “Thinking about princely duties, plans to be made. Perhaps I am even overthinking.”

Anduin mumbles something unintelligible as he feels Wrathion’s mouth descends, eyes fluttering at the gentle kisses and nips being placed along his arm.

Wrathion pauses in his ministrations. “What was that?”

“I said you worry a lot for someone so full of himself,” Anduin mutters in a sleepy drawl before his head hits the pillow once more.

Wrathion smirks, releasing the human’s arm as he shifts in the bed to lean over his dozing prince. “You mean ‘so sure of himself’, don’t you?” he murmurs lowly, lowering himself over Anduin’s form to let his breath ghost along the prince’s neck.

A sleepy eye cracks open to give him a scrutinizing stare. “What’re you doin’ now?” Anduin asks quietly, though there is no question in his voice.

“Indulging myself, I suppose,” Wrathion hums, leaning over to press his mouth against the curve of Anduin’s neck. “Won’t you satiate me, O prince?”

A muddled sound escapes Anduin’s lips as Wrathion begins to lazily suck at his skin, pointed teeth scraping so gently as an idle tongue laps away the pinpricks of pain. He finds himself tilting his head to the side, allowing the dragon ample room as he feels a heated body beginning to press his into the mattress. Warm, calloused palms smooth over lowered shoulders as cautious claws drift lower to trace loving, intricate patterns below his shoulder blades, dipping into the small of his back.

With a wet pop, Wrathion’s mouth releases its prey, descending only once more to capture his lips in an almost desperate kiss. Strong arms encircle his form, pulling him flush against a sable, muscled chest while a pointed chin tucks itself atop his head. A content rumble reverberates in Wrathion’s throat as Anduin smiles sleepily against it.

“Good night, Wrathion,” he sighs, rubbing his face affectionately against the other’s neck before his leaden lids blissfully slip shut.

Wrathion responds with a pleased hum, gazing downwards as Anduin drifts back into slumber. The prickling fear is gone now, replaced by a strange kind of peace and his own overwhelming satisfaction.

_I cannot keep you, Anduin Wrynn. Our time together is precious and altogether too fleeting._

He muffles a yawn, burying his nose in golden hair as he inhales slowly and his arms tighten.

_So I will carve. I will carve every inch of your body, your scent, your soul into my memory, so that when our time has passed, I will always have a piece of you for me and me alone._

His eyes flutter, suddenly laden with the welcomed exhaustion flooding his body.

_You must forgive me, my dear prince._

Slowly, his lids begin to close as he heaves one last contented sigh.

_I am so very selfish._


End file.
